damnlyrics.com

Tuck Ya Ice (Feat. Baby) (Produced By Kane Beatz)

[Chorus]

Tuck, tuck that

Tuck, tuck that

Tuck, tuck that

Tuck, tuck that

Tuck, tuck that ice in

You ain't, you ain't iced out

Tuck, tuck that ice in

I shine like a lighthouseTuck, tuck that ice in

You ain't, you ain't iced

Lights on, lights off

I shine like a lighthouseTuck, tuck that ice in

You ain't, you ain't iced out

Tuck, tuck that ice in

I shine like a lighthouse

Tuck, tuck that ice in

You ain't, you ain't iced

Lights on, lights off

I shine like a lighthouse[Trick Daddy]

My shit is platinum

These assholes wearin' white gold

See, I'm too smart for this 'cause

All my shit paid for

And why should I rent a house

When I can buy it and write it off?

Make it my Florida home for the summer

'Round winter time just rent it out

See, I ain't none of them

Who ride around on rented rims

Change on the weekend

And floss in him mama's Benz

See, when I hit the scene

I be so fresh, so clean

White fitted, white tee

Ain't no nigga like me

What kind of shit you on?

Wearin' fuckin' rhinestones

Them cubic zirconium, son

Them ain't fuckin' diamonds

So you gonna fuck around

And get gangrene at the arm

Who'd rob and kill one

Over some motherfuckin' slum?

Your chain is crazy

That shit for gazey

And it ain't real

Unless it's copper or stainless steel

So whoever made it

You shouldn't have paid it

Twenty grand for a watch

That's fuckin' gold plated![Chorus][Baby]

Sixteen out the house

Seventeen gold mouth

Eighteen on the block

Nigga got them thangs out

Birdman stunna, nigga, we don't sit in jail

Real nigga's do real thangs

You know we make bail

Trick, hit me on the cell

Know I gotta make a sale

Found myself in Dade County

Nigga's movin' pounds of bail

So fresh, so bright with the ice

Nigga, you could loose your life playing with the bright lights! Yeah

Cali got my back

I'm strapped, nigga, and prepaid

Doin' it big, poppin' bottles, nigga, the g-way

Black handles, black ice, we'll get it right

For a cheap price, nigga, that cutter'll get your mind right

M.O.B. to a bitch

Made my hood rich

Quick cash, young money; it's that uptown shit

Ballin' one them bitches

Shock callin' on them bitches

Two million on some ice and some cars on them bitches[Chorus][Trick Daddy]

They asked the kid the difference between mine and his

See, my shit blindin'

His shit don't shine

'Cause that shit ain't real

His gemstones - they fruity pebbles

Just like Flinstones

And he had his 'Roley' on

But I ain't even notice his arm

But his diamonds cloudy

And he ain't shiny

And I heard his shit Tick, tick, tickin'

Oh man, this nigga trippin!

See, we poppin' bottles and smokin' bugga

Actin' cocky

Big thangs with fat pockets

Wearing seventy-thousand dollar watches

My overseas friends

Are breakin' thangs in

Invest in a smaller hit town

Shakin', bakin', and breakin' it down

We gettin' top dollar

'Cause we got that top powder

Hos slob on our Johnson

'Cause Johnson got that best powder

We call a grand a dollar

We gettin' money, holla

Rollin' hard with five fives

Real fucking street ballers

I did five trucks since the first quarter

I'm on the right path at this rate

I'll be sellin' slabs by the halfs[Chorus x 2]Tuck, tuck that ice in

You ain't, you ain't iced

Lights on, lights off

I shine like a lighthouseTuck, tuck that ice in

You ain't, you ain't iced out

Tuck, tuck that ice in

I shine like a lighthouse

Tuck, tuck that ice in

You ain't, you ain't iced

Lights on, lights off

I shine like a lighthouse

Songwriters

JOHNSON, DANIEL / HART, DJUAN / YOUNG, MAURICEPublished by

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

Enjoy the lyrics !!!